


What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas

by Dillian



Series: Vampire-Asgard [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Drunk Tony Stark, F/M, M/M, Vampire Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: Odin is First Vampire, and Asgard is the name of the worldwide business empire that funds vampire nests all over the world.  The conflict right now is taking place at the flagship Asgard hotel, in Las Vegas:  As Odin's abilities seem to slip, Head of Security Loki competes with All-Father's favorite, Thor, over who will get control of the empire.  And then a mortal walks in on all the drama:  Tony Stark's just there for a business convention, and the last thing he expects is to fall in love (especially not with a fang).Overall goal is that this should be a three-part series.  First part is where all the fluff is, it's just basically one romantic weekend, re-told by my favorite genius/billionaire.  Second part is an AU-retelling of Iron Man 1 (if I can make it work), and part three is to resolve the problems that are breaking Asgard apart.But don't worry about that right now.  For now?  All this is is fluff, romance, andsex.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You and I will be reborn  
> In a future place and time  
> If everything our Hindu brethren say is true.  
> In an age of things that hover,  
> You and I will still be lovers  
> And we'll say to ourselves,  
> 'That was then and this is too.'”  
> (Heads that resemble the Rat Pack: “Doo doo doo-doody doo doo da-doo doodoo.”)”  
> \-- Futurama, _Viva Mars Vegas_ , “That Was Then (And This Is Too)”

_**The Avengers**_ **,** _**Iron Man**_ **,** _**Thor**_ **, and** _**Captain America**_ **, and all situations and characters thereof, belong strictly and solely to Marvel Comics.  This is a fan-work, meant for enjoyment only, and not for any material profit.**

Okay, I was drunk.  Beginning of every story about Tony Stark, all the good ones anyway:  I was drunk, and then stuff happened.  You think I’m joking?  Of course you don’t, my reputation precedes me, but some of the stories are pretty damn good.  This one is:  I fucked a vampire.

Depressing part of the story is, I liked him.  All of the shit fangs are supposed to do?  He didn’t try any of it.  And I never saw anything, just a little bit, and that was the night before I had to leave, and I was so drunk that night that I’m not even sure I saw it then.  He was just this really cool guy.  Smart, like you want a guy to be smart.  We could talk, understand?  I mean, there’s fucking, and there’s talking _with_ fucking.  You tell me which one is better.

So anyway, I was drunk, okay?  Like I said?  Standard game plan for Tony E. Stark, I work hard and I play hard.  And this was right after the StarkPhone hearings, best minds of the Justice Department, such as they are, I’d just gone head-to-head with them over the override codes, they wanted them, I’d just told them all the reasons the answer was no.  I’d also just finished code for the new OS, that can’t be overridden, period, end of conversation, not by anybody but me.  But of course I didn’t tell that to those Federal goons, I just gave them the standard spiel, my property, my rights, and you can all shove your unconstitutional anti-First Amendment bullshit up your collective ass with my compliments, etcetera etcetera.  After that was the convention, and Obie said I had to be there, so if you look at this whole thing right, the Loki thing?  His fault.

Convention:  Vegas.  You ever been to Asgard?  Gold, glitz, scary amounts of glitter.  Kind of place that I wouldn’t design, it would be too tacky.  Kind of place where I had to drink, it was pretty much of a necessity, I’d go out there, and I’d have to drink just to keep all the gold everywhere from burning out my retinas.  Three-day convention, made for a lot of drinking, and somewhere in there, there was a speech, maybe a couple of them, you know, in between the gambling and drinking and stuff?  Hell, I did the speech (or speeches), and I chit-chatted with a shit-ton of Feds, and some independent researchers and so on and so forth, what Obie sent me there to do.  Would have been just your standard StarkCo. type of meet-and-greet, but then I met Loki.

Loki-the-Vampire.  Like I said, he treated me with kid gloves the whole entire weekend.  Feed on me?  He didn’t even let me see him feeding, he was the perfect gentleman.  I mean, he wasn’t, you know?  But he was when I wanted him to be, which I didn’t always, if you know what I mean?

Loki-the-Vampire:  One of the things he told me?  Everyone at Asgard’s a vampire.  I mean, not the guests, of course, most of them are just regular people like you and me, but the ones in management?  Fangs.  And the staff too?

“Come on, Tony…”  This was Loki, and we were talking.  We were naked, which was how we spent pretty much the whole damn weekend, and we were talking:  “Come on,” he said, “use your brain, Tony, how could we have mortals on staff?  We’d be hungry all the time.”

I answer with something dumb (because I was drunk at the time).  “Like if I had cheeseburgers walking around all the time,” I say, and Loki looks at me.  A _hungry_ look?  I don’t know, what does _hungry_ look like?  He looked at me for a minute, and then he smiled.

“Yes Tony, exactly like that,” he said.  And then we fucked.  Pretty much all our conversations ended in more fucking.

__________________________

Fucking Loki:  I wanted it to go on and on.  What it was like:  You want to know what it was like?  You know that book _Twilight_?  Somewhere in there, not sure which one it’s in, because jesus god, you don’t expect me to read that shit, do you?  But it’s somewhere in there, and I’m not going to go look it up, somewhere in one of the _Twilight_ books, there’s this scene where they’ve just had sex, Virginal Whatsherbutt and Mr. Sparkly-Fang, and she finds out they fucking _broke the bed_.  In the throes of their passion, well that wasn’t how it was with Loki, but I wanted it to be, you understand?  I kept wanting there to be more, and more, and more, and he’d be like, “Oh, you don’t want it, you can’t handle it, Tony.”  I wanted it.  I could have handled it.  If I could go back there…  Only I don’t know, maybe I’d better not…

Okay, fucking Loki?  Was like falling in love.  Maybe I did fall in love with him.  Maybe that’s why he said, “You have to leave,” maybe that’s why he hasn’t so much as called since then, not even a fucking text.  Because he knows I fell in love with him.  Loki’s got this thing:  No permanent relationships with mortals.

“Just last night…”  This was the morning after the night before, if you catch my meaning?  After a first time, that was also the best time, in my life, and if you know how many partners I’ve had over the years, you’ll know that’s saying a lot.  “Just last night,” Loki said, grumpy/angry look on his face, like all vampires before they’ve had their first cup of blood in the morning.  “That was already too much,” he says.  “It’s too complicated, I shouldn’t have gone with you.  This is what comes of letting my guard down around a mortal.”

He talked like that:  “Letting my guard down.”  Not a guy with a whole lot of trust in the world, or in the people _in_ the world, fang _or_ mortal.  That’s Loki, he’s a real “Never expose my soft vulnerable underbelly to anybody,” kind of a guy.  It’s kind of cute in a way, or it was cute anyway, until way after the fact, when I’d found out he really meant it.  But I was telling you about how it happened, wasn’t I?  I guess I’d better get started.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We'll still find the happenin' hot spots,  
> We'll still cruise the cool casinos.  
> You'll still fly me to the moon,  
> Although the moon to which you'll fly me  
> Could be Phobos or Deimos.”  
> \-- Futurama, _Viva Mars Vegas_ , “That Was Then (And This Is Too)”

Scene One is when I met him:  Picture it, you’ve all seen Asgard, right?  I mean, you’ve at least seen the photos and shit?  If you haven’t been there?  I mean, those photos are everywhere, have been ever since that place opened, which was…  Well I don’t remember when it was, sometime in the 80’s probably, when I was kind of busy learning how to drink, and, you know, graduating from M.I.T. at age 15, and that kind of stuff?  You know, doing the important things?  Asgard Hotel:  Biggest hotel, most expensive hotel, biggest casino, biggest…  I don’t know, biggest beds?  Biggest toilets?  Biggest everything?  And the glitziest, place makes Donald Trump’s house look bland, as we all know.  And it’s a whole empire, you might not have known that part.  There’s the place in Vegas, but there are other Asgards pretty much all over the world.  Asgard Paris, Asgard London, and Quatar, and… North Korea, probably (or if not, that one is coming soon).  And then there’s the side-enterprises, just the safari business alone…  But I’d better get on with my story.

Scene One is when I met him:  This was the first day of the convention, which was a Thursday, sometime last summer, when the last thing anybody wants to do is spend time outside in Vegas.  Well, I never want to spend time outside in Vegas.  Who goes there to spend time outside?  I was inside doing what any normal person does, I was gambling like it was going out of style, and soaking up all the free champagne I could get my hands on.  And I’d just…  Well, I’d gotten this award, okay?

I don’t remember what award that was, Order of the British Empire maybe, for all I can remember, I was pretty drunk already when I got it.  I’d just gotten this thing, Rhodey gave it to me, now I come to think about it, so I guess it was military-related somehow.  And he gave that thing to me, but then I was out of chips, which is why it went on the table to cover a bet ( _sorry, Rhodey!!!_ ).  Thing went down, I didn’t think anything of it, and I was halfway to the roulette table inside of five minutes.

Next thing I know, there’s somebody my elbow, who turned out to be Loki.  And here’s another thing about him, okay?   _He looks like a vampire_.  I mean, they all look like vampires, they are vampires, right?  Loki looks like a movie vampire.  Some of them, like Thor for instance?  He looks like he belongs on _Baywatch_ , but you put a cape on Loki, put him in front of some spiderwebs maybe?  Pure late-late show, that shit.  That’s what he looks like, he looks like a vampire.

Yeah, and nobody ever expects to meet up with a vampire, especially not right in front of a roulette wheel, at the biggest hotel in Vegas.  And so of course I thought nothing of it, it’s just, one minute I’m feeling around in my pockets, etcetera.  I’m looking for what I have that I can place a bet with, because I was feeling lucky right then, didn’t want it all to wear off while I went and found a counter and bought some more chips.  And my eye lights on this guy:

He was wearing the uniform, that’s how I knew he was one of them.  You know what the Asgard uniforms look like, right?  Like, almost like armor?  Different colors, for different people, Loki’s is green-and-black. -- And my god, what it does to those green eyes of his, and that dark hair!  But I digress. -- My eye lights on this guy wearing an Asgard-uniform:  “Be a good man and go get me some chips, will you?” I ask him, probably thinking he’s just some kind of a flunky.

No, I know that’s what I thought, remember, I was drunk off my ass at the time, etcetera.  “Go get me more chips,” I say.  He just looks at me like I’m a nothing, like I’m a worm, too lowly to even be worth the trouble of stepping on.

After that, he took me to his office.  Head of Security, Loki Odinson… -- They’re all named Odinson (except Odin, of course). -- Head of Security, as the ID said that he showed me out on the casino floor, that I was too drunk to even notice.  After that, he read me the riot act, blah-blah, disruptive, and blah-blah, trying to gamble with worthless objects, and I break in, “Hell, I lost, what more do you want,” and Loki just keeps on, blah-blah this, and blah-blah that, and blah-blah something else, and so on.  All the time, though?  Something was growing.  He felt it, and I felt it:  There was something in between us, and it was growing.

He was stressed, see.  I think that was it.  It was it for him, he was stressed, and he needed some relief.  Me, it was just the sexual attraction (because I’m immune to stress).  And my god, the sexual attraction was just huge.  It was those mean, green eyes of his, and that firm, tight mouth.  And that he read gay, I knew that I had a chance, and I knew I wanted one.

“You’re right,” I say, “I should never have done it.”

He looks at me, mean as ever…  But with the stress showing, if you see what I mean.  Like, his eyes?  A little too mean.  And his mouth, too tight, and all these tension-lines showing.  “No, you shouldn’t have,” he says.  “Don’t do it again, Stark.”

“Call me Tony,” I say, and he looks at me like he wants to bite me (because maybe he did).  And, “Let me buy you a drink?”

__________________________

Loki explained later on that weekend:  You know that old line, “I never drink… wine”?  Not true.  Fangs can drink, they can eat too, they just never bother.  He let me buy him a drink, aged Scotch, the same as I was having myself.

“I don’t need this,” he says kind of soft and to-himself, as he takes the glass.  And then, “Bottoms up,” as he drinks it.

I do likewise.  “Bottoms up,” I say.  And, “You want to talk about not needing it?  I’m the one who’s drunk.”

What he said after:  It didn’t make any sense to me at the time (but it does now).  “It’s a good thing you are drunk,” he said, “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

And I had no clue why he said it of course, but you know, you’re drunk?  Things don’t make sense, and you just figure it’s you, and you go with it.  “Then I’m glad I’m drunk,” I say.  “Because I wouldn’t have missed you for the world.”

My room:  That’s where we did it the first time.  My suite at The Asgard, which as we all know, is the golden-iest place in the world (except for Donald Trump’s bathroom).  My suite, glittery walls, glittery furniture, glittery bed.  My shiny bedspread, that got pushed aside, it landed on the floor, and about two seconds later, there were all my clothes on top of it.

And, what Loki was like?  Well, like I said, it wasn’t any kind of a _Twilight_ -style shitstorm, but what he was like?

Hungry, that’s how he was that first time.  Not fang-style hunger, like, there wasn’t any kind of a, “I want to bite you, _I want to DRINK YOUR BLOOD_ ,” kind of a vibe coming off him.  This was hunger like, “I haven’t fucked anybody in about a thousand years,” which as I found out later, came dangerously close to being the truth.

Loki was hungry because he doesn’t get it much, because he doesn’t have time to get it much.  Because he’s the brains behind the entire Asgard Empire practically…  I learned all this later, of course, because the last thing either of us wanted to do that night was to sit down and discuss our respective curricula vitae.

That night, there was just the fucking:  First, there was his mouth on top of mine.  And it was hard, just like it had looked like it was going to be, and there was this good little rasp as well, from the five o’clock shadow, heavy enough that I could feel it, even though it didn’t show much yet.  Hard mouth, raspy feel of his face…  Mm, god, if I could just have it again?  Even though I know I shouldn’t?

Loki to me, that last morning:  “No, I’m not going to see you again, Tony, because I know what would happen.”  And me so desperate to stay with him that I would have been fine with… well, you know.  And that part of my brain that was still smart, and so I said good-bye.

I hate that smart part of my brain sometimes.  Maybe that’s why I drink so much, is because I’m trying to kill it, only then what?

Me, if I were with Loki:  Undead!Tony, joining the fangs.  And would that be so bad?  But Loki’s right:  Odin’s past it.  And he’s also right, no way Thor’s going to be able to run Asgard.  He’ll _run_ it right into the ground.  Who wants to be part of that?  I’m better off as I am.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The psychic worms from Rigel 9,  
> Who control everything we do  
> Will make us think that was then,  
> And Three Thousand and Ten  
> Is exactly the same as Nineteen Sixty-Two.  
> Don't expect any changes my friend,  
> That was then,  
> And this is too!”  
> \-- Futurama, _Viva Mars Vegas_ , “That Was Then (And This Is Too)”

I still haven’t gotten to the sex, have I?  Which is a shame, that’s the best part of the story.  How Loki is like those _Twilight_ /sparkly guys?  Stamina.  He has crazy stamina, could probably go for a week without stopping.  Hell, the three days I was with him, he went the whole time, practically with no stopping, and they were the best fucking three days of my whole goddamn life.  And I’d better get busy telling you about them.  Only reason I haven’t yet?   _Love_.  Love fucks everything up.

I’ll give him this, he _never_ asked me to fall in love with him.  And why did I?  Because I’m dumb (but of course you already knew that).  Someday I’m probably going to be dead because of being dumb, and I have to say, I’ve lost a little sleep because of it, the love and the dumbness, since I came back from Vegas.

But you don’t want to hear about that, do you?  And I’m here to give you what you do want to hear about, which is _**the sex**_.  Here goes:

Waking up with Loki:  Here’s what it was like, okay?  I mean, you know Asgard, I know you do, you’ve at least read the news articles.  Or you’ve seen the ads, everybody has, and believe me, it’s just like they say it is.  Downstairs just off the casino, there’s this buffet that to say the least, lives up to every single report you’ve read, and all the ones you haven’t read too.  Long gold tables, platter after platter of food, roast whole animals, big-ass hunks of bread everywhere, and all these side-dishes…  I believe I’ve said already, fangs can eat, even though a lot of the time they don’t.  You know what their favorite food is, but they will eat other things.

Loki at the buffet:  (This is a total digression, so sue me, too bad if you don’t like it.)  Loki, twelve or fourteen hours after we’ve eaten anything, and I’m like falling on that food, I am devouring the shit out of everything.  He’s just standing there.  “You know this is just bait?” he says.  “For the whales?”

Whales:  Casino-speak.  Means high-rollers, AKA guys like me, and I know it, and usually I don't care.  Only, you know, with fangs running the place?

“Whales meaning your victims?” I say.  Inside, I’m thinking, _am I a whale like that, Loki?  Am I a victim?_

Loki gives me this look, like, _are you always this stupid?_

“How long do you think Asgard would last if we did that?” he says.  So, good news:  Feel free to go to Asgard, you won’t be nibbled on in the night by your hosts.  They stick to non-guest humans, or some of them, like Thor, they’ll stick to nothing but animal blood.

But I was talking about the sex.  The very good, very sexy sex…  (Mmm, Tony Stark, you fantastic writer you, ha, ha, ha.)  But here’s what that was like:

First of all, we’re in Loki’s bedroom.  His very basic bedroom, not a lot of gold and shit like the ones they rent to the guests (especially the whales), but the kind of place just an ordinary guy might have, a bed, a table, some books, etcetera.  Bed’s decent-sized, narrower than the one in my suite, but more than big enough for the two of us, and we’re in that thing, and I wake up.

Do fangs sleep all day?  This is probably something you’re wondering about, I know they do in the movies.  In real life (this is per Loki, and if he doesn’t know then who does?) they don’t, in fact they don’t sleep much at all.

And that brings me back to me and Loki in bed:  I’m just waking up, and he’s there beside me with his arms around me, just as if he were asleep.  We could have gone down to that big whale-buffet downstairs, but we never did.  Breakfast in bed, that was the thing, and always something plain, like toast, maybe, and coffee.  Why?  I knew why.  Only time I ever saw Loki looking at me like you know what:  I was eating a big hunk of some kind of roast meat or another, he looks over and I can just see it in his eyes.  “I’m getting out of here,” he said to me that time, and then he did.  Later on I saw the bloody half-moon marks of his nails in the palm of his hands.  Control, hunger controlled so hard it almost broke him, and that’s why after that it was just toast and coffee, for me.  And booze, of course.  Because, you know, I am Tony Stark.

...Okay, so we wake up next to each other, right?  And by the way, if I knew then, what I know now, then I never would have spent one single night with him, and especially not there in his bed.  Because I could get over this if it were just the fucking… I think I could.  What I can’t get past is those moments like that, those mornings feeling his arms around me, or the nights, when I’d fall asleep, breathing in his scent.

But where was I?  Oh yeah that’s right, we wake up together…

Fuck it, I’m not going to tell you that part, that part’s private.  Here’s the rest of what happened the night we met:

Okay, first we start kissing, right?  Like I was telling you?  We started, downstairs in the bar.  Two or three Scotches, first couple went down fast, but then there was the last one.  Feel of the glass in my hand, cold glass, because of the ice cubes melting.  Little tink-tink sound of the cubes hitting the glass when I’d take a sip -- When Loki would too. -- and the taste of it, smoky, and the smoke of the Scotch, joining the clouds of all the other stuff I’d been drinking that afternoon, all the champagne, and the rest of it.  And my head’s spinning, but it’s like Loki centers me.  It’s like I was drunk, but then slowly I become un-drunk, and what I am instead?   _Loki-ed_.

Feeling of being Loki-ed:  Like every detail is distinct, pure, perfect.  Every detail is pure sex, first the drinks, and the ice cubes in the drinks, and the taste, and everything.  And this thought’s in my head:  “I have to have him, _now_.”

“You’re coming up to my room, right?” I say.  I don’t remember what he said back.

...No that’s not true, I do remember.  “I shouldn’t,” he said, “I shouldn’t have anything to do with you.”

And I should have listened, but I didn’t. I like totally ignored that.  Thought I knew why he was saying it, always so many reasons why a man won’t go with you:  He had a boyfriend, or he had a girlfriend, or a husband or wife maybe.  I’ve always been a gentleman, I don’t hook up with them if they’re in a relationship.  But I will push.  Sometimes they’re on their way out, and why not do them a favor?

And so I pushed.  “You are coming though, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” he said.

We started kissing on the way up in the elevator.  Hell, _kissing_?  We were both halfway undressed before we got to my floor.  Both of us wearing just our pants, shirts hanging open, I’m kissing Loki’s throat, and his chest, and his stomach.

He’s very, very pale (Remember where I said he looks just like a vampire?  And that most fangs don’t look that way?).  And his skin is some cool, but not so cool that you would get suspicious.  Hell, just try having someone on your bed, and he’s lying there, you’re kissing him all over.  Try thinking about, “Is he normal-cool, or vampire levels of cool,” while you’re deep-throating his hard, uncut cock, and he’s writhing all over everywhere.  You try, see how far you get.  Me, I didn’t even try.

I took the leadership, that night.  Later on, it was always all Loki, but that night?  That was like a sales job, you understand?  I was proving myself to him.

Proving what?  That mortals can be fuckable…  Here’s the thing with Loki:  He doesn’t fuck other fangs.  He told me he doesn’t fuck anyone, hasn’t in god knows how many hundreds of years, and I think he was telling me the truth.  Because of his position, understand?  Because he’s like second or third in line for the throne, and he basically handles all the security for Asgard, pretty much worldwide (in other words, not a layabout like Yours Truly, but a really productive person… I mean, fang).  Loki doesn’t fuck other fangs, because he’s always on his guard, and he can’t fuck mortals, because we…  We make him hungry, no other way to put it.

Loki, on my bed that night:  Gold sheets, because of course, _it’s Asgard_.  Loki’s body, blue-white pale, and his long hair spread out, making a dark blotch against the gold sheets.  Loki’s cock, big, and red-hard, and just crying for some attention.  How could I not give it what it wanted?

Mmm, I blew him.  He came so fast that first time, but that was because he hadn’t been with anyone in forever, and all the other times?   _Stamina_ , like I said.  Stamina, like you wouldn’t believe!

Loki, in my bed:  First I blow him, and then that was just the beginning.  I have his knees up around his chin, pretty soon, and my mouth is deep inside that perfect ass of his.  Mouth in there, tasting him, listening while his moans got all eager again, and feeling his body jumping and writhing around, under my hands.  Raw power.   _Sex_ power, which is the best kind of power, not that political/business shit that Obie’s always going on about.   _My power_ , making Loki cum over and over again, and hearing him scream every single time.

My tongue, finding his asshole…  Tight little pucker, first I go inside a little, and then I coax it open more and more.  My hands, pushing his legs up some more…  I like to bottom usually, but you know, a guy can be flexible, right?  My hardon, dripping a little…  And I reach for some lube and a condom, and then _we’re going to town!_

I came faster than I normally do too.  Should have known then that something was up (besides just the sex I mean), only I was dumb.  And drunk.

Nothing like being in love with a fang, you should try it sometime.  Ha ha, a joke (or sarcasm, maybe).  Steer clear of fangs, you can’t make a relationship with them.  Believe me, Thor, and his animal blood, and his human-wife Jane?  Strictly an exception, just don’t do it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The minute you walked in the joint,  
> I could smell you were a man who was stinkin',  
> A real big lobster.  
> Fresh shellfish,  
> You give me a rash,  
> Ladies love a decapod with clothes made of cash.”  
> \-- Futurama, _Viva Mars Vegas_ , “Hey, Rich Lobster”

Vampires, feeding:  I only saw one (I’m pretty damn sure), and it was Odin, and it was the most fucked-up thing you ever saw in your whole life.  It was also why I ended up having the fight with Loki, the one I never went back and said I was sorry about.  I could have…  I should have, and he would have forgiven me, you could see it in his eyes, but really, am I sorry?  What future is there anyway, for a mortal and a fang, and that thing Loki said about maybe turning me?  World’s biggest joke, why the hell would I say yes to that?

But to return to fangs and the whole feeding thing:  There’s two ways you can do it, there’s the old-fashioned way, which is what Loki likes (I know because he told me), and there’s what Odin and Thor does, which is get the blood in bags and drink it like a take-out from Jamba Juice.  You know what fucked-up looks like?  Picture an old man in his bathrobe, cable news blaring in the background ( _of course_ ), and a bag in his hands, and blood running all over his chin.  And it’s in his hair, his long, white hair, that was straggly and sort of matted-looking, every time I saw him.  And it was splashed everywhere, on the bathrobe, and on his pajama pants, and even on that creepy-ass eyepatch thing he always wore.  Jesus god, can you even imagine?  Now think about if you actually saw it, and heard it, and you’ll know what I felt like.

It was the servants that always fed him.  And it wasn’t like an important occasion.  What we do?  Sitting down to formal dinners with the family?  People that have families I mean, not me, because I’m a lone wolf, but them?  Daddy at one end of the table, Mommy at the other, and all the little kiddies, etcetera, etcetera?  Fangs don’t do that.  It’s just quick and gory, gulp-gulp-gulp for them, And Thor needed to eat one time while we were talking… -- This was after Loki introduced us, after he couldn’t help introducing us, because Thor’s like this big friendly puppy, and you can’t get away from him. -- ...Like I said, we were talking, and then one of the other fangs shows up, one of the flunkies you know?  “Excuse me,” Thor tells me, “I’ll only be a minute.”  Then after that he goes out, and when he comes back?  No sign of blood anywhere.

_It was not the same thing with Odin_.  

Like I said, I was with Thor, and that was the only reason why I even saw it.  Because, you’ll remember, I said Loki had all those responsibilities?  He didn’t leave me alone much, but when he did, it was for that, because of the responsibilities.  And sometimes I’d just stay in the room, but then after I met Thor…  He’s in sales, by the way.  Sells the resorts, and that safari thing of theirs.  That’s what he does for Asgard, and he’s crazy-good at it, he really believes in what he’s selling.  Kind of cute, actually.  ...But where was I?  That’s right, Loki had left and I was talking to Thor:

First, I was waiting in Loki’s room.   Thor knocked, he was like, “Loki won’t be back for a while, and I thought you might be bored.”

I’ve told you already, fangs do drink (people-drinks, I mean).  Thor can drink even me under the table, which is saying something.  And that’s what we ended up doing together, he was like, “Well, I have this ale…”

You a micro-brew fancier?   _Hipster scum_.

There’s a fang micro-brewery, I won’t tell you which one it is, because I don’t want to hurt their sales.  And it’s one of Thor’s hobby-horses, it’s beer for him, and sales, and that safari-thing they run, which half the time he’ll lead himself (a photo-safari, no animals hurt, can you imagine the colossal _weirdness_ of a fang, protecting cute little animals?)  ...But where was I?  That’s right, the beer:   And Thor’s all like, “It’s a _high-gravity_ ale,” AKA, it was super-strong, and he’s like, “Well, Loki said you’re a serious drinker, and I’m really proud of this stuff, you have to taste it, Friend Tony...”  He always called me Friend Tony.  Like he’d forgotten how real people talk, or, you know, maybe that’s how everyone talked, back when he was still a mortal.  And anyway, before I know it we’re both sitting down with frosty glasses in our hands, and I’m drinking this _high-gravity ale_ of his.

It wasn’t bad, actually.  And it was super-strong, like I said.  But I wasn’t drunk, I really saw what I saw.

We were watching TV.  That’s where Odin came in.  First Thor switches the set on, it’s some of that cable news shit.  “Sorry,” he says, and he switches the channel…  This is also how I found out fangs have a TV network.  It’s a big one, I won’t say which one.  You wouldn’t know, except for they’re always selling fang-stuff.  Commercials are for the resorts, or the beer, or the safari-thing.  I guess some of the programming might be slanted too, but I wasn’t paying attention to that.  ...We were watching TV, like I said, found a baseball game, which neither of us really cared about, but, you know, guys and sports?  

“How do you like the D’backs’ chances this year?” he says.  D-backs is a team, you understand ...I ...guess?  Ha ha, me and baseball, like I give two shits about it.  Thor’s like, “Oh, and the Padres, do you think they can do this or that,” I don’t remember what, and I’m just sitting there, and I’m drinking my beer, and I’m like nodding, etcetera.  Then we both hear shuffle-shuffle-shuffle, and then in comes Odin.

I should not have said diddly-shit about him to Loki.  I just shouldn’t have, he’s not just King to the fangs, he’s practically like their father.  Well, they call him that, don’t they?  That’s his other title:  All-Father.  They mean it too, and I knew they meant it.  So he’s past it now, and he’s basically a blithering idiot?   _He’s still their father._

Me to Loki:  “Well, this affects us too,” I said.  Self-righteous Tony, self-righteous, asshole- _jerk_ , saying stuff about another guy’s father.  “This affects all of us,” I say, “it’s a big part of the economy, and, you know, fangs?  The last thing we want is for you guys to be in chaos.”

And Loki sitting there with a frown on his face.  He didn’t say he was angry, but I would have known if I’d just gotten off of my high-horse and paid attention.  (Only would that really have changed anything?)

“It affects us too,” I say, “and what is this Odinsleep, couldn’t you make him do it?”

Only thing he said the whole time:  “No one _makes_ All-Father do anything.”

What would it have taken for me to stop things right there?  Two words:  I’m sorry.  The two words Tony Stark has never said, to anyone, for better or (usually) for worse.  Two words I wish now that I had said, but really, why?  Hell, hindsight’s 20/20, probably wouldn’t even have changed anything.  Plus like I said, what future would there have even been for us?  I’m going to be a senior citizen before Loki looks like he’s thirty.

Oh well, I guess I might as well finish this story:  And Thor and I are sitting there, right?  Like I was saying?  And in comes Odin, shuffle-shuffle, in his bathrobe, and I think he might have been using a walker.  “Change the channel for me, son,” he says, and boom, there goes Thor with the remote, and it’s cable news again, on the tube.

Found out later he watches that shit all day every day.  When he could be Odinsleeping.  Whatever the hell that even is.

“Change the channel,” Odin says, and right away Thor is doing it.  And then, “Bring me my food,” he says, and there go the flunkies.

And Thor looked at me, like, “Do you want to leave?”  But I didn’t know how bad it was going to get, and so I said no.  And then in come the flunkies with all these bags.  Pure Red Cross, O Positive, and B Negative, and...  I don’t know, it was blood, all right?  Like, the fresh stuff, straight out of some poor fucker’s vein.  Odin drank the bags in big slurpy gulps, that would have been creepy as shit no matter what he was drinking, but then I’d remember what it was, and…   _Jesus god_.

That’s it, that’s what happened.  And I probably would have gone back and made things up with Loki, only, you know, it was already Sunday by then.  And I was leaving on Monday, and I already knew there was no real future ahead for us.

Hell, future?  I’m Tony Fucking Stark, I don’t have futures with people.  I’m the cat that walks by himself, all places are alike to me, and all people?  First you have the fun, and then you say good-bye, that’s how it works, and Loki’s been around the track way more than I have, he understands that better than anyone.  Hell, I’ll be with someone else next weekend, probably, and so will he.  And it’ll be fun, and when it’s over, we’ll say good-bye too.  And wherever he is, and whoever he’s with…

_He’d better not be having fun with anyone besides me._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then let me get right to the point,  
> I don't boil my pot for every crab I see,  
> Hey, rich lobster,  
> Fresh shellfish,  
> Blo-owww-www  
> Your wad of cash on me.”  
> \-- Futurama, _Viva Mars Vegas_ , “Hey, Rich Lobster”

Here’s why it wouldn’t work with Loki, why I know it wouldn’t work, whether my stupid brain, or my body, or any part of me for that matter, wants to admit it or not:  This is what I _saw_..  Fucked up?  It wasn’t fucked up.  This was crazy fucking scary as shit.

Look, I know drunk.  I know blackouts too, I’ve had one or two once in awhile.  No blackout this time, I saw what I saw, Late night.  I don’t want to talk about it, don’t even want to think about it, but there are some things you can’t stop thinking about.  Was it the man?  No.  Wasn’t even the screaming, what it was?   _Loki looked just the same, when he came back in to me afterward._

Okay, here’s what happened, Loki’s bedroom?  That plain room I told you about before?  We were in there, we were in bed (of course), and we were naked.  No dinner for me that night.  I remember Loki said maybe I was hungry, maybe I should go get something?  Because that was one of the weird things with him, he’s considerate, you just don’t expect that from a fang.  “Here, why don’t you go get something to eat.”  Not like the witch in _Hansel and Gretel_ , not, “I want to eat you, so why don’t you go get nice and fat, go eat at the buffet downstairs,” but really considerate, like, “I care about you, I want you to have what your body needs.”

I did need food.  One of the reasons I was so drunk that night?  Nothing to eat, practically the whole day.  Should have gone and got something.  Then I wouldn’t have seen… what I saw.  Should have said, “Thanks Loki,” gotten up, put some clothes on, etcetera.  But we were in bed together, and I didn’t want to leave.  “No thanks,” I said instead, “I’m not hungry.”

Loki?  Little frown.  Not like he was upset about it, but just a little frown   Then he looks over at me,  God, his face.  Face I remember for other reasons, like, a fond face, tender.  Loving, even.  Loving face, and he says to me, “Fine, suit yourself.  What do you want to do, Tony?”

And you _know_ what I wanted to do, and we did it, and it was very good.  Hours...  Maybe it was hours?  I was drunk, what the hell do I know?  It felt like hours.  He liked fucking me with my back to him, and my hands against the wall.  We did some of that.  And he liked doing it with us both down on the bed, doggy-style.  Did we do some of that as well?

Doesn’t matter.  Anyway, we did lots of things.  I think I was, like, starting to fall asleep.  Maybe that was what Loki was waiting for, maybe maybe he wanted me to fall asleep, maybe he…  Jesus, I don’t know.  How protective is a fang going to be, of a mortal?  Anyway though, I was starting to fall asleep, had maybe nodded off a little bit.

What woke me up?  Sounds, scuffles, voices.  Here’s what I remember:

Okay, I’m lying there, right?  On Loki’s bed?  Voice that wakes me up says, “Sir, Your Highness, Master Loki.”   And there was the sound of footsteps...  You have to understand, this is all really unclear for me.  Voice said, “Your Highness,” and there were some footsteps, like, someone in the room that didn’t belong in there,  And I remember Loki’s hand on my shoulder, but I don’t remember him saying anything to me.  And after that another blank, some more scuffling sounds in the background, but after a while I stopped hearing them.  

I would have slept through the whole thing, should have slept through the whole thing.., couldn’t sleep through the whole thing.  I got up.  

Me in the doorway, me watching…  God oh god, _unspeakable_.  

Loki’s voice, “Where did you get him?”

Plainclothes flunkies, one of them says.  “Needles.  He won’t be missed.”

And Loki’s voice goes sharp, “He’d better not be,”

Someone being dragged in.  Loki, all sharp again, “No anesthesia?”

Flunkies are like, “Oh, but sir, the taste…”  God, just thinking what they meant by that?  They’re like, “He’s drunk, like your mortal there.”  Loki looked at them with eyes that could kill.

I wanted to go after that, wished I could go after that, but it was like I couldn’t get my legs to move.  You heard the term rooted in your spot?  That’s what I was, I was rooted in my spot.

And they drag this guy in.  Transient guy, kind of guy you’ve probably given quarters to, outside a bus station (or are you the kind of dick that doesn’t give money to homeless people?).  Not old, but you know those kind, they always look old.  Worn-out Army uniform on him, and a pair of shoes that were so full of holes I could see it from the doorway, and they’re dragging him over, those hole-y shoes of his are bumping against the ground.

“We’ll go back to the normal way after... “  Loki didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew what he meant.  After I was _turned_.  That’s one of the reasons why I had to leave.  What we had?  That weekend, what we shared together?  That was a fantasy, it wasn’t real life for either of us.  And as long as I was a mortal he couldn’t have his real life back, but if I…  If he...

Let’s just say the choice was:  His real life, or mine?  I’m not sorry I left.  

But, where was I?  Oh yeah, that’s right.  Flunkies come in, dragging this homeless guy, and Loki...

You haven’t seen what a fang looks like when he feeds, but I have, and it’s horrible.  It’s the teeth, it’s the way the teeth aren’t there, and then they are.  It’s when the face changes, first he’s the normal guy that you thought you knew, the one with the smile just like anybody else’s smile.  And then there are the teeth, and not just cute little fangs like in a monster movie, but the whole mouth full of them, like a shark.

Look on their faces, hungry look, greedy.  That look was on Loki’s face ( _and his mouthful of sharp teeth_ ).  “Bring him to me,” he said, and the flunkies did as they were told.  And after that, I couldn’t watch, but I couldn’t help hearing.

First the screams, and then they died away into moans,and then those were gone too.  And I could hear Loki, I could hear sounds coming from him, animal sounds.  I was back on the bed by that time, but…  There’s nothing you can do to block sounds like that.  And I kept picturing.

It was like I could see him, I kept imagining what it was like, what Loki looked like.  He’d have his face buried in that poor guy’s throat.  How long did it take him to drain the guy dry?  And I would hear the sounds, and I’d think:   _Is he done yet?  Is he done yet?_  And then there’d be more sounds.  It was like I saw him, right in front of me, like I was watching, as he finished with poor Homeless Whoever.  He’d finish, and then he’d drop him really casual, like you’d drop a used napkin.  I know how Loki is, he’s used to people picking up after him.  That’s what I was imagining, like Homeless Whoever was a napkin, then Loki uses him, and he just tosses him aside.  And then I imagined the blood that would be all over Loki’s mouth.

...Not a napkin.  Homeless Whoever, I mean, he wasn’t a napkin, and that was the grisly part.  He was the thing that made Loki need a napkin.  Here’s the deal:  Loki came in to me, okay?  After he finishes with poor Homeless Whoever?  Whole face is perfectly clean, like nothing ever happened.  And the question that follows:   _What happened to the napkin he used, to clean up after Homeless Whoever?_

I don’t remember what Loki said to me, after he came back to bed.  “You make my life so complicated,” I think that’s what it was, or maybe it was the next morning by then, when he said that.

And I was half-asleep.  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, and I remember him laughing.

I wonder:  Does he still think about me, like I think about him?  And what would he do if we were to meet up again?  “Hi, Loki, how’s tricks, how’s the exsanguinating of homeless transients and cleaning up after senile All-Fathers going?”  And he’d be like… what?

“Come back to me, Tony:”  Would he say that?  “Come back to me, I’ll accept that you’re a mortal, and we live different lives, and I won’t try to turn you.”  Is that how he’d go?

What would I be supposed to say?  “Oh, that’s great, that’s fine.  And I’ll be sure not to get up and watch what you’re doing in the middle of the night, you know, just in case.”

As fangs go?  Loki’s great.  But he’s a fang, we’re never going to be alike, and we’re never going to be together.  Accept it, Stark, you know you’re going to have to sooner or later.


End file.
